


Straw Bones

by thelostrocketeer



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, M/M, Poetry, Prompt Fill, crash, crumpled paper, gravel, ochre, poem, shitty poetry, straw - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelostrocketeer/pseuds/thelostrocketeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Use the words "crash", "crumpled paper", "straw",  "gravel" and "ochre" in a poem</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straw Bones

Your ochre sweater lies abandoned on the polished grain

of the wooden flooring in your bedroom, a crumpled heap of soft

wool and tenderness that smells of our stale cigarettes and bitter coffee and the

cheap, disgusting aftershave you refuse to stop using-

along with the rest of our clothes, our codenames and secret identities;

strewn like a tornado paid us a visit.

 

I look over to you, lying sprawled, naked and open, soft and angular against the

fine  folds of your bed sheets-

like a child after a long day of running and I wonder abstractly,

 just what your father would think of the crumpled paper on your

desk, the crash zone of your study, the way you

yelled into the curve of my neck as you came all over me.

 

But I think, as I run my finger along the dusty spines of your

Encyclopaedia Britannica, your Origin of Species-

that maybe one day I could yell my voice into gravel, the three syllables of your name

reverberating out of my being into the virgin skin of your navel, your thighs

and you wouldn’t mind the bruises I leave on your neck

and one day you will love me, too.

 

So I watch the morning sun make its way across the sky

its rays illuminating the pale expanse of your back, the fragile straw bones

of your scapula and I make my way back to you and I bury my face

into the mess of your bed hair, you mew my name as you stretch and catch me in a kiss-

you say _James, what the bloody hell are you doing up so early?_ and

I smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the word "ochre". welp.


End file.
